Chapter Text
YEAR THREE
His practicum started like anything else. Tentatively, and boring, and all of a sudden it was too much all at once and he was cursing himself for ever wanting to be a teacher one moment, and staying up late crafting the perfect lesson plan the next because everything was just so interesting .
He had six classes, three groups of seventh grade phys ed, one group of tenth grade, and then eleventh grade sports pro and sports med. It was exhausting. He wasn’t sure he even dreamed for the first month, passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow and waking up to the shrill call of his alarm five hours later. There was so much to do, all the time, and it felt like he was constantly running behind -
“Fett.” Bail Organa was standing in the middle of the hallway, his hand folded primly at his front.
Rex skidded to a halt before he could pass the principal, his shoes squeaking against the linoleum. He only had a single period in between one group of noisy twelve-year-olds and the next, if he didn’t tuck himself into the phys ed office soon he wouldn’t have time to work out a lesson plan for tomorrow’s sports pro class -
“Yes, sir?” He was breathing hard.
“Will you be at the staff meeting tonight?”
Tonight, yes, right - the staff meeting tonight. The staff meeting tonight which meant that he’d be driving home two hours later. Rush hour tacked on an added thirty minutes, and if Fives hadn’t made dinner - “I’ll be there, sir.”
“I was just speaking to Mr. Sato,” said Bail, his words carefully structured and slowly paced and very inconsiderate to Rex’s crammed schedule, “and he was telling me you have yet to be introduced.”
Standing beside the principal was a man he hadn’t even noticed a moment earlier. His hair was dark and he was taller than Rex was - although that wasn’t something hard to achieve.
“Mr. Sato is our other, wonderful student teacher.”
Adjusting the binder in his grip, Rex stuck out his hand. “Hi, Rex. Mostly phys ed.” Against the brown of his fingers, Sato’s skin looked like feldspar. God , he needed to stop letting Ahsoka talk to him about geology.
“Jun,” said the man - Jun, “eleventh and twelfth grade chemistry. Are you enjoying your run?”
“I - what?” said Rex, utterly distracted because everything about Jun’s voice made sense, from the gravel in his tone to the way his accent turned down the ends of the words.
“Your run down the hallway. Were you enjoying it?”
Suddenly the binder in his arms was an anvil again. He still had his lesson plan, and - shit fucker , he still had to set up the nets for next period’s ball hockey. “If it will get me through these attendance sheets quicker, I won’t complain.”
“Ah,” said Bail, and a frown flickered, there and gone, over his face. “Don’t let us stop you. If I might be able to have a moment of your time after the staff meeting?”
“Of course,” said Rex, his heart sinking faster than a stone thrown in the harbour. Already he was working out his calculations: he was a week behind on the outline for his thesis, depending on the length of the post-staff-meeting-meeting it might end up becoming a week and a day.
By the time the staff meeting ended, the sun had set and the streetlamps in the school parking lot shone like fat lightning bugs through the windows.
Standing outside the door to principal Organa’s office, Rex’s stomach was growling. All he’d had for lunch was an apple and a granola bar. His texts to Fives, including the one where he begged him to put the lasagna in the oven, were all unanswered - he was going to starve to death.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Principal Organa bustled through the reception area with a small troupe of teachers on his heels. “It’s unlocked, wait a moment - let’s just do this here.” Setting down his paperwork on the secretary’s desk, he removed a single sheet of paper. “I didn’t have time to ask earlier, but tryouts should be starting soon for our fall sports and I do want to get some of our winter and spring sports in order.”
“Miss Shand,” he nodded to a woman with a long dark braid. Grade ten sports pro, if Rex remembered correctly, “Cross country and field hockey?” When she gave Bail a thumbs up he scribbled her name on the paper.
“Mr. Fett,” it took Rex a moment to realize he was being called on, but his spine straightened automatically. “Dr. Koon mentioned you used to play club rugby?”
“Yes, sir.” All the other teachers were looking at him; his cheeks felt red hot.
“Mr. Dritus usually handles the junior boys team but he’s broken his ankle and may need help. Will you be able to?”
Rex took a deep breath. By the time the season started his thesis would be finished. But… junior boys would be difficult. Teaching them the rules was more than half the struggle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jun, his arms crossed, leaning against the office door frame. “I should be able to.”
“Good,” Bail held his gaze for only a second before turning. “Mr. Sato, I trust you’ll want to be involved with basketball.”
A friendly chuckle made its way around the room. Clearly there was a joke Rex wasn’t aware of.
“I’d be happy to.”
“Senior boys?”
“Sure.”
“And,” Bail’s pencil hesitated over the page, “with your reputation, anything you could do for the swim team would be greatly appreciated.”
Now it was Jun’s turn to mull things over. Rex watched him examine the purple holepunch on the secretary’s desk, unblinking. After a moment, he nodded and smiled. His teeth were a line of pearls. “I’ll help where I can.”
###
The commute was killing him.
For forty-five minutes every morning he was locked behind the wheel of the car, driving away from Lothal and UAT until he pulled into the North Alderaan parking lot. Despite being under an hour away, Alderaan was greener, it’s trees were older, and even though the drive from there to Coruscant was two hours instead of three, he felt more homesick than ever.
His practicum was only every second week. But the weeks he spent on campus were full of catching up on the work he had missed at school. He barely even had time to run anymore. It seemed like every night he was hunched over his laptop until two in the morning - there was a pile of textbooks on his bedside table he had pulled from the library to help with his thesis. They sat, accusingly untouched, gathering dust.
For the entire first month of school he only saw Ahsoka twice . Her fourth-year classes were harder than she expected, and her current GPA was a smidge away from entrance to her preferred grad school.
It felt like he was watching an explosion in slow motion. He and Fives were so busy they barely had time to exchange ten words a day; Echo was still at home and spent most of the week in physical therapy that Rex knew he could have helped with had he been there; Jango called to let them know he’d sold part of his landscaping company to cut costs; Boba was failing grade 12 physics; he had so much goddamn work to do; and Cody hadn’t called.
He hadn’t called once.
The commute was killing him and when the car clicked to a stop outside of their apartment one Tuesday morning - not coming back to life no matter how many times he twisted the key - well, it almost seemed like fate.
###
There was a sharp pain building in the space behind Rex’s eyes. He took one hand off the keyboard to rub absently at the bridge of his nose; it felt like he’d been tossed unceremoniously off the pier and inhaled a bucket’s worth of saltwater.
“Headache?” Anakin was leaning against the living room door, his arms crossed. Somehow motor grease was already smeared over his wrists.
“Just a small one.” This essay was supposed to be eighteen pages, so he would rate it at about eighteen pages worth of pain.
His brother-in-law hummed thoughtfully. “Obi-Wan used to get really bad ones during finals season.” All of a sudden Anakin laughed. “His last year of his PhD? I’ve never seen someone on so many painkillers at once. I swear he lived off of nicotine patches and coffee.”
That was a story Rex was familiar with. Last Christmas, when Cody had complained about an argument he and his husband were having, he had described how Obi-Wan was trying to convince him that anything more than four hours of sleep a night actually made him more tired. At first Rex had thought it was funny, and then the note in Cody’s voice had taken a hysterical tone, and he’d had to talk his brother down from secretly dosing Obi-Wan’s morning tea with melatonin.
“You’ve never studied like that? Even in engineering?”
Anakin was smiling, fond, in memory. “No, the courses just came easy to me. I don’t know. I guess I really like what I’m doing.”
Shaking his head, Rex immediately regretted the pressure that danced over his skull at the movement. “Funny, I could have sworn I like this.” He honestly didn’t know anymore. Fifteen pages in and he had lost track of every reason he’d ever had for going back to school. He was never going to be a teacher. He was going to drop out and go on a roadtrip and live out of his car and never take another Tylenol again. Too bad the car was broken.
“Sure you do,” Anakin was too encouraging. He gave a noncommittal shrug, and his smile grew a touch smug. There was the infamous Jinn arrogance; Rex had seen that look on Ahsoka’s face more times than he cared to count. “Also, if it makes you feel better, I’m kind of a prodigy, so.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rex rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright fixing the car? It’s a little below your paygrade.”
“I like cars,” Anakin declared, “didn’t you see what I did to Cody’s?”
Cody’s Toyota Corolla could now go from zero to eighty miles an hour without the engine making so much as a sound. Rex was insanely jealous.
“Hey thanks. I really appreciate you driving all the way down here.”
“It’s no problem.”
“And for bringing Boba with you.”
“Of course,” Anakin smoothed down the creases on his jeans.
“Er, Anakin. Don’t take this the wrong way, but why is Boba with you?”
“Your dad didn’t tell you?” When Anakin raised his brows, the scar over his eye stretched white. “Apparently he skipped the last three meetings with the career counsellor and he hasn’t sent off any applications. I think Jango’s trying to inspire him or something. He took him to work on Wednesday, and then sent him to the city council with Cody on Friday, university with Obi-Wan on Monday, and now,” he spread his arms wide, “me and the car.”
Jango most certainly did not tell Rex that. He craned his neck over the back of the couch: he would have shot his youngest brother a disappointed look if he knew exactly where Boba had slunk off to.
“I think he wants to send him with you to school next.”
“Yeah, well he can keep dreaming. There’s no way I can bring him to class.” His kids were a rowdy mess. The last week had been back-to-back seventh graders, and then the head of the PE department had dropped a stack of unmarked tenth grade sports med quizzes on Rex’s desk which meant he had to stay in the phys ed office during his off-period, hands over his ears to block the sound of screaming eighth graders.
Every lesson he’d taught that week had resulted in him having to pull at least one troublemaker aside and talk to them about the merits of passing the soccer ball. There was one kid in his early morning seventh grade phys-ed class, Petro, whom Rex had to resist the urge to dropkick every time he opened his mouth.
Anakin shrugged, wiggling at the doorknob. It looked like he was itching to take a screwdriver to it. “I think a gap year would do that kid good. Give him some direction.”
Rex had taken four gap years in between his undergrad and his masters. The first two had been planned, and the second two were unexpected, but, well… his family had needed him. He had split his time between working with his dad and working the front desk at the gym closest to their house. It was hell - but at least he saved up enough to afford gas for this commute. The commute for which he needed the car…
“Anakin, seriously, I can’t thank you enough.” And before Anakin could slip away he stretched out a hand. “How are the twins?”
Ahsoka’s brother’s smile was sweet and sunny, lemonade on a hot day. “We took them to the zoo last weekend - do you want to see? I have a lot of pictures.”
###
“How is it?” Over Facetime Echo’s voice didn’t sound the same.
Rex passed a hand over his eyes, staring up at his ceiling fan. “Exhausting.” He hadn’t even taken off his shoes; they were still on his feet, dangling over the edge of the bed. If he could just sit up - he tensed his stomach before immediately deciding otherwise. “I have six classes. Three of them are filled with annoying little shits.”
“But do you like it?” Asked Echo, as Rex tried aimlessly to kick his shoes off against the bed frame.
“It’s… ” It was discouraging; it was amazing; it was impossible to know if he really enjoyed it when he spent half the time missing his brothers. “It’s hard to tell, right now.”
“Well, only three months until Christmas, right?”
Echo leaned back just as Rex finally mustered the strength to sit forward, fingers on his laces. “You don’t have to remind me, I’ve been counting down the days. What’s happening with your online classes?”
While Echo rambled on about firewalls and data collection, Rex was only distracted once, a snap drawing his gaze from his phone to his shoe. He stared, not really understanding what had made the noise, until fraying fabric caught his eye.
His foot had finally torn all the way through.
###
“Rest in peace, the right running shoe of a two shoe pair, lifelong companion to my brother’s stinky foot. You will be forever missed.”
“I still don’t think we should burn it.”
“In this funeral by fire, we cleanse you of the grime of your past life, as preparation for the next.”
“What if the entire dumpster goes under?”
“I have my water bottle just in case - now, does anyone have any last words?”
“I do,” said Ahsoka, the barbecue lighter already aflame in her hand. “Goodbye, shoe. I’m sorry I tripped on you all those times by the front door. I will miss your faded colour and musty smell. May God bless your rubbery sole.”
“I’ll say something,” Rex cleared his throat. They were crowded around the apartment dumpster, the shoe box, serving as a coffin, aloft in Fives’ arms. “Thank you for being a good sneaker. I’ll make sure I replace you with a similar pair.”
“Heartfelt.” Fives swiped a finger under his eye. “No finer words have been spoken at a funeral before. Gone but not forgotten, oh most beloved shoe. Like Ahsoka, I am also sorry I tripped on you - Rex never bought a doormat and the floors are slippery. Unlike Ahsoka, I am very sorry that I spilled a power smoothie on you and never told Rex -”
“Fives!”
“ - May you carry our secret to the grave. Now! The lighter!”
It took five minutes for the cardboard to catch fire. Ahsoka played The Last Post on her phone.
###
He and Jun were bent together over a low coffee table in the corner of the staff room. Rex was nursing a coffee in one hand, and trying to enter that morning’s attendance onto his laptop with the other.
“Half of my kids can’t shoot, the other half can’t pass. Won’t pass, I should say. You know Knox?” Rex shook his head, he did not know Knox. “He’s so scared of the ball he doesn’t want the others to pass to him. We’re a wreck. First game’s on Friday. Will you come?”
“I’ll be there.” Rex confirmed. He had seen the senior boy’s team practicing in the morning, and they weren’t anywhere as awful as Jun described. He had no idea what kind of high standards his friend was operating under.
“Did Dritus say anything about your tryouts?”
“Nothing. I tried to talk to him about fitness programming and he waved me out of my own office.”
“He’s lazy, don’t let it get to you.” Jun shook his head over a particularly messy piece of lab work. “Did you hear about what happened in the upstairs washroom before second period?”
They passed the next twenty minutes in snippets of gossip. Jun cut his stack of lab booklets in half, his pen leaving bright red tracks over the page. Rex stared at his fingers one too many times. Outside the window there was the unmistakable clamour of students returning from their lunch break.
Blowing the steam off the top of his coffee, Rex watched as Jun gave some unlucky soul a failing grade, his mouth pursed in a frown, brow pinched. There was something entrancing about the sharp line of his cheekbones.
“Suu told me Petro’s parents called about his report card.”
Jun nodded along, gathering his papers while Rex continued the story. When it finished, he zipped the top of his bag closed. “Is there anything else? My break is about to end.”
“One other thing,” Rex seized his wrist before he could stand. “Is Mrs. Purs really getting fired?”
Jun scoffed, gathering up his pens as rapidly as he could. “ Really getting fired ? Of course she’s getting fired, after what she pulled during PT day?” His eyes were so dark they were almost black.
“What happened on PT day?”
“You didn’t hear?” Jun hissed, ducking low as Shand passed their corner. “Wait, I have to - what are you doing tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“There’s a Starbucks a block away. We can work on our marking and I can tell you the rest of the story.”
“Right,” said Rex, not appreciating the way his heart was skipping beats. “Yeah, let’s do that, then.”
“Great,” Jun pressed the tips of his fingers to the back of Rex’s hand, much too quick. “I’ll see you later.”
###
Fives was even more irritable without his brother; he and Rex could barely go ten minutes without snapping at each other over something . He hated their disagreements - they were superficial. They bickered over who was cooking dinner, and who had left a clog in the shower drain, and who was supposed to unload the dishwasher.
Everytime he texted Ahsoka to complain her replies were pacifying, reasonable. He would stare at his cracked phone screen, a, just give him some space , or a, maybe you guys should talk about how you miss Echo , annoying him even further.
He tried to talk about it, he really did. He didn’t want to have another brother who hated him.
###
“One, two, three, all eyes on me!”
His grade seven class snickered in response. Only three of the kids out of the sixty even gave him a second glance. Crossing his arms, Rex aimed a silent curse skyward and then tried again. The noise was cut in half, which, in a class this size, wasn’t much.
“If you’re going to act like you’re still in elementary then that’s how I’m going to treat you.”
That finally got their attention. They gathered around, dropping to their knees in a lazy half circle. Rex spotted Petro near the back of the class, still running his mouth, but being quiet enough that he wouldn’t call it out.
“That’s better. Now, we’ll be doing soccer today, but before we get started I’m going to hand back your grades from the twelve-minute run. Can anyone tell me what next week is?” Cupping one hand around his ear, he bent for the thin stack of paper at his feet.
“Swim week!” Someone from the crowd called out.
“That’s right, swim week. Ganodi pass those around.” He handed the sheets to a small girl up front who rose silently to her feet, adjusting the rims of her glasses. “So if next week is swim week that means we need to have our permission slips in by…”
“Friday!” That was unmistakably Petro, his smile mischievous. Rex didn’t take the bait.
“Yes, Friday, thank you, Petro.” Lifting the lid off of the tub of soccer balls to his right, Rex bent over, tucking as many as he could lift into the crooks of his elbows. Like he suddenly gained a sixth sense, the hairs raised on his arms. Before he could straighten up, someone was calling his name.
“Hey Mr. Fett! Mr. Fett! Nice ass!”
The class erupted.
It took him the rest of the period to track down the culprit. He almost felt bad about sentencing the poor kid, Zatt, to detention. One look told him everything he already suspected - it had been Petro’s idea. But it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.
And it had been kind of funny.
###
Drumming his hands on the wheel of the car, Rex turned up the radio. “How’s Steela?”
“Good.” Ahsoka’s voice crackled through like she was on the other side of the country. “We’re going to a movie tomorrow. Saw was asking about you. We had an argument actually.”
That night's basketball game had run late enough that it was no longer rush-hour. The streets were flat, and empty, and dark under the cover of the moonless sky. “You and Saw or you and Steela?”
“Me and Saw.” He could hear something in the background of their call: her pen on the paper. She was taking notes at the same time. “About you. He wasn’t being mean or anything. We were talking about your practicum and he said something about how he didn’t understand ‘how such a nice guy could be so afraid of commitment.’”
“Right,” Rex turned on his blinker and switched lanes. Ahsoka imitated Saw’s airy rasp all too well.
“And I said if he really thinks you’re afraid of commitment then he’s just as stupid as he looks.”
“ Ahsoka .”
“Steela thought it was funny.”
“But you didn’t say anything about -”
“No.” He could hear the frown in her voice. “Should I have? I can next time.”
“I’m not sure.” He guided the car down an offramp, his hands barely touching the wheel. “I’ll talk to the counsellor about it.”
“Okay. Hey, how’s Jun?”
He nearly swerved into a stop sign. “Who told you about Jun?”
“ You told me about Jun. The only other student teacher at North Alderaan? The coach of the basketball team? The one you definitely have a crush on?”
“Yeah, yeah, that Jun,” said Rex, too flustered to offer any denials. “He’s good.”
###
“Can I ask you something?”
They were sprawled over the huge circular desk in the phys ed office. With one hand, Jun was annotating a copy of a Chemistry 12 textbook. The other was stretched towards Rex, who was practicing wraps with an elastic bandage, the clips held between his teeth. At his question, Jun raised his head. A strand of his dark hair was caught against his eyebrow.
“Shoot.”
“When Bail was assigning us to teams, he made a joke about you and basketball. What was he talking about?”
“Oh,” said Jun, flinching as Rex pulled the bandage tight, “in highschool I used to play against the students here. I think most of the older teachers still remember me, I took the game much too seriously.”
Rex neglected to mention the fact that he still treated every game like it was being played for the NBA. He was on his feet at the sidelines as soon as the starting whistle blew.
“And the swimming?”
Were his hands not on Jun’s wrist, Rex wouldn’t have felt him tense. He looked to the side, quick, a muscle working in his jaw. “I, uh, used to be quite good at it.”
“Quite good?”
Jun slowly shut the cover of his textbook. “Training for the Olympics.”
Moving to unwrap him, Rex regretted the next question even before he asked it. “Used to be?”
Turning to face him, Jun’s smile wasn’t bitter, only sad. “Injury.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pulled the rest of the bandage off. For some reason, knowing the elastic had been against Jun’s skin left the sensation of burns against the tips of Rex’s fingers.
“Don’t be,” Jun waved a hand, slipping his book into the bag at his feet. “It was ages ago. Before my undergrad, actually.” He wasn’t looking at Rex anymore
“Even if it was,” the wrap went like a sun-warmed stone into the pocket of his coat, “I’m still sorry.”
Jun’s hand in his was fleeting. There and gone.
###
When Ganodi tripped and sprained her ankle he got to do his first real-life emergency tape job. He left Mr. Dritus sprawled on a lawn chair, the sunglasses over his eyes drawing a shadow over his whiskered chin - at least he was facing the direction of the field.
Rex led Ganodi back to the gymnasium, and when she started crying, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.
“Does it hurt like this?” With Ganodi propped up on the athletic therapy table, he bent her ankle inwards. She shook her head, swiping at the lenses of her glasses with her shirt. She’d gotten some tears on them. “What about like this?” Outwards. She nodded vigorously.
“Well, the good news is it looks like it’s only a little sprained. The bad news is you’ll probably have to miss the next week of soccer and you were your team’s star player.” He remembered, abruptly, giving somewhat of the same speech to Boba when he still had most of his baby teeth.
It was parrotted, he realized, off of something Cody had said to him the first time he’d jammed a finger at flag football. Cody had still been in high school, his hair hadn’t been short, he hadn’t had his scar. He’d gathered Rex close when he started sniffling.
After a few more tests, he scooped his student a bag full of ice and grabbed the tape. His hands moved fast, there were barely any wrinkles. Adi Gallia would have been proud. “Keep the ice on it and try not to stand too much until your parents come to pick you up. Come on,” he helped her off the table, “I’ll walk you to the front office.”
###
Rex hesitated at the door, his thumb hooked over the strap of his bag. “Do you want to -”
At the same time, Jun started, “Would you-”
They both broke off, laughing. Under the parking lot lights, the strands of Jun’s black hair flashed gold.
“Um,” Rex tried again, shoving both hands in his pockets, “do you want to grab dinner?”
“It’s late,” said Jun, though his lips were pressed into a smile.
“Drinks, then.”
“Bored of our study dates already?”
“Who says we’re not gonna study?”
“I do,” said Jun, and while his grin was slow, it was wide and bright and intoxicating. “Carpool with me, I know a place.”
###
The day before their Christmas break started, Rex woke to find Fives already standing at the living room window.
Outside it was bleak, the sky light grey, the buildings spreading rough black shadows over the ground. Snow was drifting leisurely to the pavement, the flakes so small they were barely noticeable against the clouds. The windowsill was littered with them, small white circles, more miniature hail than snow.
“Didn’t expect to see you up.”
“Are you going to the gym?” Fives was cradling his right arm close to his body. He didn’t turn around when he was speaking.
Rex already had his gym bag, complete with his new pair of sneakers, slung over his shoulder. Pausing in the process of shoving on his winter boots, he leaned against the wall. “Yeah, I’m about to head out.”
“Can I come with you?” His brother still wasn’t looking at him.
As startling as the snow, Rex suddenly had a phantom pain at the back of his neck. He was craning around the passenger-side headrest, blood in his eyelashes, trying to catch a glimpse of the backseat-
“Of course,” the bag slipped off his shoulder and knocked into the wall. “I’ll wait for you.”
They ran sprints side by side on the treadmills, not saying a word to each other the entire time. Rex outlasted Fives by nearly eight minutes. He was that good - he had always been that good. By the time he stepped off the machine, Fives swiping a rag over his face on the bench, his legs felt as sturdy as a bowl of pudding.
He didn’t know what he was going to do once he got older, when his body would start to age and fall away. He supposed he would count himself lucky. Not many people had the privilege of growing old.
It was light when they finally stepped outside, but the sun was lost somewhere in the gloom. Maybe the gloom was fitting, maybe it was a touch dramatic. Without speaking they turned away from campus to the harbour. The snow kept falling, needle-like, but it was so light it didn’t even stick to the tops of their toques.
At the harbour, the metal railing of the pier was frosted over. Rex pressed his thumb against it, waiting until the heat of his body melted a perfect, glossy circle.
His brother tucked his hands in the pocket of his coat, hunched against the frigid ocean air. “Five years ago today.”
“I know. It doesn’t feel that long.”
“Do you ever…” Fives seemed to struggle with the words in his mouth. “Do you ever think about it? Because I do. I think about it all the time.”
It wasn’t yet cold enough for ice to gather on the water. The waves passed lethargically. “What do you think about?”
Fives shivered, pressing closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. “His eyes. How they were open.”
###
“Echo, you go first, everyone chipped in.”
They were gathered on the rug in their dad’s living room, gingerbread half eaten on the coffee table, half of them nursing a rather large mug - Fives had been pouring - of spiked eggnog. Sitting in front of the fireplace with both feet up on the ottoman, Echo obliged, first setting down his piece of the bland walnut loaf Obi-Wan had sent over.
Waiting a little less than patiently, the rest of them hushed at the crinkle of the wrapping paper. Echo’s gift, Boil’s idea, had taken the longest to put together. Rex fought the urge to bite his thumbnail.
With one final fold, their brother unearthed his Christmas present, his face cracking into a smile at the sight of knotted wool. Pulling out one sock, and then the next, Echo’s grin got wider and wider. There was the one Cody had knitted, misshapen and bright orange; there was Jango’s, a sensible, everyday sock; there was the one Boba made, too lumpy to be identified; there was Anakin’s, who had somehow managed to knit little computers onto his - the damn prodigy.
“Are all of these… for me?” Echo asked, once he reached the bottom of the box, the tiny felt sock Padme had helped the twins glue together.
“All yours,” said Jango, gruff, already beaming.
Laying them out on his lap, Echo surveyed each of the single pairs, as if counting them off. “You guys,” his voice was almost wavering, “you each knitted me a pair of socks?”
“Well,” Cody corrected, “everyone knitted you a sock, yes.”
Echo’s eyes were bright. “Ah, Cody, you, um -” he broke off, his head dropping into his waiting palms.
Rex was sitting on the ground in front of the couch, his back against his oldest brother’s legs - though Cody had submitted to the contact with a few complaints, apparently his last round of shovelling had given him knee pain which Rex studiously ignored. Maybe he would offer to tape it for him Christmas morning. Cody and Obi-Wan had split themselves off for the night, which was an occasion so rare it itself deserved celebration.
In front of him, Rex had bundled Boba into an awkward half-hug, one arm slung around his youngest brother’s shoulders. Except for the fireplace, which Jango was tending with a long-practiced ease, the room was bare of light. Everything was warm, coated in a honey glow that did nothing to hide Echo’s slumped and shaking shoulders.
“You guys,” Echo choked out, and Rex met Boil’s horrified stare with one of his own. The socks had taken time but surely they weren’t that --
Starting again, Echo raised his head from his hands, tears welled in the corners of his eyes. “You guys, I, I really appreciate this - but you know that I can wear a sock on my prosthetic, right?”
###
“God, you’re the worst,” Ahsoka punctuated her shout with a fistful of snow at his head. “It’s supposed to be a snow fight , not a snow war .”
“Looks like a war to me!” Fives called back, volleying an armful of snowballs towards the sound of her voice. “Your move, Commander Tano.”
In the midst of reinforcing their fortress wall, Rex cursed at him. “That was a waste of ammo, they didn’t even land near her.”
“I can’t see over these stupid blocks of ice.”
“Echo,” Rex grabbed at a clump of white powder, rolling a fresh set of snowballs for Fives to squander. “I need an update on those peepholes, stat.”
“Peepholes one and two are fully operational. I’m experiencing difficulties with peephole three.”
Motioning at his brother to make use of Echo’s hard work, Rex dumped an armful of snowballs in his waiting grip. “What sort of difficulties?”
“My leg popped off,” said Echo, miserably.
“Hey,” Anakin was suddenly crouched in the snow behind the secure walls of their fortress. His scarf, toque, and winter jacket were such a stark black, it was a wonder they hadn’t seen him coming. “Can I use that?”
“What are you doing over here?” demanded Rex, patting down the front of Anakin’s coat - he was unarmed, “you’re supposed to be fighting for the other team.” Behind them, he could hear Boil’s battlecry, a sure sign he was charging the base.
Fives released a barrage of their heavy artillery as Anakin repeated his question.
“Can you use what?” asked Rex, perplexed, the cold making his brain foggy.
“Echo’s leg. I want to see if I can make a snow catapult out of it.”
“You’ll have to fish it out of my snowpants yourself,” Echo was rolling snowballs with a fury.
Anakin nodded. “I’ll take those odds.”
“Echo, no .” Rex ducked as Ahsoka’s infamous curveball whizzed by his head. “Think about this. You’re arming the other team.”
Echo’s grin was whiter than their icy fortress, his eyes gleaming. Rex realized too late what he had said. Before he or Fives could throw a hand over their brother’s mouth, or shove his face in the snow, or do something, anything to avoid the tragedy that was unfolding before them, Echo had already uttered the horrific phrase he so clearly wanted to say.
“Technically I’m legging them.”
Yelling obscenities and trying not to laugh, Fives dumped snow down the back of his shirt.
###
The outline for his thesis sat on a tab on his browser that he hadn’t clicked into for nearly a month. In a spurt of energy, he stayed up working until he could hear Jango shovelling the driveway in the morning. He found fifteen new sources and wrote four whole pages.
You’re insane , Jun texted him, go to sleep. I’m driving to Coruscant now to hit you over the head with a baseball bat .
He had no idea when he’d become so unorganized.
###
“Bend your knee for me. Alright, now squat - facing me.”
Cody obliged, wincing only slightly. He’d always had an incredible amount of self control.
“Do it again facing the right. When did the pain start?”
His older brother bit his lip before answering, obviously weighing the price of lying or telling the truth. “Two weeks ago.”
“Codes,” Rex sighed while he repeated the exercise facing left.
“Fine. November.”
“Left or right? Jump squat.”
“Both,” said Cody, taking longer than Rex would like to vault himself above the ground. “But mostly the right.”
“Alright, do some one-legged squats for me - don’t worry about going low.”
Cody pressed his hand, flat, to the wood of the table. His cheeks were flushed. “Ahsoka told Obi-Wan you’re seeing a therapist.”
Ahsoka , dammit - he had expected her to tell Obi-Wan, only... not this fast. Clearing his throat, Rex motioned for Cody to turn to the side. “She’s just the on-campus counsellor.”
“Is it the same as the therapy you had to do with Dr. Che?”
Rex shook his head, grabbing his kit of tape, thinking of Dr. Che with her ever-present box of tissues who he and Fives had been sent to for months. “Jump up onto the table for me. No, it’s different. I don’t really speak about that. Well, I do , but it’s not the focus.”
From his spot on the counter, Cody’s legs kicked uselessly into the air. Looking like a four-year-old, he gave a curt nod. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Unrolling his KT tape, Rex balanced Cody’s calf against his hip, rolling up the pant leg. His knee was unmistakably swollen. Pressing his thumbs against his brother’s knee-cap, he pushed the patella back and forth. With his fingers he pressed at the PCL.
For one frightening moment, the urge to tell Cody everything rushed through him like a tidal wave. And maybe he would have - a year ago, or the year before last. Maybe he would say something if he thought Cody would want to hear it. His hands slipped over the roll of tape. What would happen if he did?
Cody would be concerned; Cody would try and help - he was a good brother, of course he would. Even if he didn’t want to. And if he didn’t want to, if his older brother needed space from him, then Rex was only selfish to try and take it away.
Wielding a pair of scissors, Rex cut the tape to the perfect length. Cody’s knee was warm to the touch. He tore the paper cover off of the adhesive back, crumpling it in his fist. “No, it’s alright. Flex your quad for me.”
Cody nodded, his knuckles white against the edge of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Rex watched as he opened and closed his mouth. When he finally looked up, Cody turned away quickly, studying the collection of Fives’ speeding tickets on the fridge with intensity. He wasn’t as surreptitious as he thought - Rex still caught a flash of disappointment on his face.
###
“You’re not driving in that - there’s no way.”
They were standing in front of the double doors to the school. Outside the sidelight was white and nothing else. Rex couldn’t even see the shape of the cars in the parking lot. His own Sedan was probably buried to the bumper.
“It’s only a forty-five minute drive.” His stomach turned as he said it.
“It was only a forty-five minute drive. In rush hour, and a blizzard? You’ll be lucky to be home in five hours.”
Rex huffed and laid his head flat against the door. He had texted Fives before their staff meeting started, Did you put the shovel back in the trunk? His brother had responded with a picture of their only shovel, resting traitorously against the shoe-rack in the apartment. A lump of snow fell from the roof to the drifts below without so much as a sound.
Jun, who had been peering over the top of Rex’s curls to look out the window turned suddenly. “Mr. Organa, tell Rex not to drive home.”
“Oh, I would certainly advise against it.” Bail was barely recognizable under his multi-layered overcoat, his scarf wrapped twice around his face and over his ears, and a furry toque which added at least four inches to his already impressive height. “Do you have snow tires?”
Installation had cost more than that month’s electricity bill. Rex shook his head.
“A four wheel drive?”
Another shake.
“This is ridiculous,” Jun nudged against his shoulder. When he blinked, the shadow of his eyelashes dropped like ink over his sharp cheekbones. This close, Rex could see the freckle under his right ear. “My apartment is a block away, you can stay the night.”
“Perfect,” said Bail, before Rex could answer for himself, his mouth parted. As the principal passed them, striding through the front doors, there was something approving in the lift of his chin - although it could have just been the second scarf tucked down the front of his coat.
By the time they trudged through the snow to Jun’s apartment, the streetlights were leaving golden puddles on top of the piles of snow. They kicked their boots off in the lobby, tracking slush all over the floor of the elevator. Rex’s mittens over his hands were the only reason he didn’t start chewing his thumbnails. He’d walked Jun back to his apartment before but he had never gone inside .
“You can leave your jacket by the door.”
The kitchen backsplash was grey, the appliances were silver, the couch was a dark shade of charcoal. Rex gravitated towards it without a word, scanning the walls for photographs or personal items. He set his bag down on the cushions; on the end table was a frame with Jun and his younger brother. Lifting it, he turned to face the rest of the apartment.
There were only three other doors: Jun had disappeared through the middle one which was still cracked open - the bedroom; beside it was the bathroom; and on the other side a door which was narrower than the others - the storage closet. Rex’s fingers clicked against the back of the picture frame. No guest bedroom.
“What are you doing?” Jun had emerged from the soft yellow light of his bedroom, his normally tidy hair ruffled every which way. “You didn’t think I was going to make you sleep on the couch, did you?”
“I don’t mind, really.”
“Rex,” Jun was wearing a sleep shirt. His pyjama pants had little cartoon test-tubes on them. Rex resisted the urge to swallow - his throat was so dry it felt almost dusty. “I’m interested in you. But even if I wasn’t I would still tell you to sleep in my bed.” He wasn’t frowning, exactly, but his eyes wavered over what Rex was sure was a wary expression on his own face. “Honestly, that couch is so awful. You’ll break your back.”
“Alright -” his heart kicked against his ribs. “Can we talk first?”
###
“Why would I be disappointed? Do I look like an incredibly sexual person?”
“Oh yeah,” said Rex. “You look like you spend every weekend elbow deep in -”
“Stop!” Jun had his hands over his ears, laughing.
“- Only coming up every half an hour for a gulp of air before you get back to -”
“Stop it!”
“- Honestly a wonder you passed any classes at all, what with the frequent orgies and the-”
He did stop, eventually, if only to dodge the pillow Jun chucked at his head.
###
For Rex’s twenty-ninth birthday, Fives made him pancakes. They were lopsided, and a little salty, but Rex ate an entire stack because they were also loaded with chocolate chips.
Jango called over breakfast and wouldn’t hang up until Rex had practiced defending his thesis to him at least once. Boba called on his way to school, his keys jangling in his hand as he sprinted to his first period physics tutorial. Boil spent their entire thirty minute phone call complaining about his landlord.
Around eleven, Ahsoka let herself into their apartment and finished off the rest of the pancakes, laughing when Rex crushed her in a hug. He’d never been so happy for his birthday to fall on a weekend. Unlike the last ten times she’d been over, Ahsoka didn’t have a single textbook with her.
Echo called him at lunch, and then called him again three hours later because he’d forgotten to say happy birthday the first time.
By nine in the evening, Rex was Googling the extra charges that would fall on his phone bill when it rang once more.
“Hey Cody.”
“Oh, no, it’s me. Sorry.”
“Obi-Wan.” Rex pressed a hand, hard, to the bones of his eye sockets. “Hi, how are you?”
His brother-in-law hummed thoughtfully. “I’m well, thank you. I’m just calling to wish you a happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not every day you turn twenty-nine. We’ll celebrate when you get back this summer.”
“I really appreciate it.” A pattern bloomed behind his eyelids. He could almost pick out the shapes before they shifted into something else. There was a lump in the back of his throat. “Thank you for calling.”
“Did Anakin call?”
“He did.” He could hear Ahsoka and Fives in the kitchen, plotting something nefarious in whispers that were basically shouts. “He put the twins on the phone.”
“How lovely! Is my sister over?”
“Yeah,” Rex winced as a crash rattled all the furniture in the apartment. “I think she’s making a mess at the stove. I can put her on, if you want?”
“No, that’s alright.” Obi-Wan sounded distracted, Rex could hear him unloading the dishwasher through the phone. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Oh, before I forget, will you be up next weekend?”
“I’ll be there.” The North Alderaan spring break didn’t line up with Fives’ reading week so he’d have to leave a few days early, but at least he would be there. Sometimes it felt like the more times he visited home the more he missed it.
“Wonderful.” Dishes clinked against one another. The water was running. Ahsoka and Fives were standing in the doorframe, their smiles both smug and a little nervous. Across the line, Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “I’ll tell Cody you said hi.”
###
“You’re squirming.”
Sitting on a bench by the school fields with a Kleenex shoved up his nose and the rest crumpled in his hand, Rex could only glare. “Well, you’re fussing.”
“This isn’t fussing,” Jun handed him another tissue, “it’s just bleeding a lot .” As Rex tossed out his soaked handful, somehow Jun’s fingers made their way back to the bridge of his nose, pinching his nostrils shut with a fresh wad. “You’re not pinching hard enough.”
“I’m a sports med teacher. I think I know how to handle a bleeding nose ,” said Rex, crossing his arms, his fingers sticky. He let Jun keep hold of his face. “It’s not bad, I promise - my nose has just been sensitive after it got knocked in a foosball game last year.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine how scary that must have been.”
“Hey,” Rex protested, taking the tissue in his own hands. “It was a very competitive foosball game.”
“Yeah, almost as competitive as this practice.”
“Oh god ,” Rex rested his forehead against his waiting palm, “don’t remind me.”
The junior boys were a wreck; they were a downright mess. In Rex’s, humble, professional opinion, after three practices in which he blew his whistle every two seconds and yelled himself hoarse: their season was unsalvageable.
No matter what strategies he tried to teach them the rules, his students would forget them by warm-up the next practice. Half of them skipped their fitness sessions. Rex thought about booking them a timeslot for weights at the school gym before ultimately deciding it wouldn’t be worth the paperwork.
The kid who had smacked him in the face with a wonky throw at the end of practice had barely apologized. At first Rex had been able to make due with the heel of his hand. But by the time all the balls had been collected and the last students had trickled out of the parking lot, his entire arm was wrapped in red and the collar of his sports shirt was dripping.
He was thinking about quitting - he had never quit anything before. Somehow, dismally, even when they were playing their best they were awful.
Jun pitched forward, and then there was the brush of his fingers, lighter than air, at the corner of Rex’s eye.
“What happened here?” His frown was analytical.
“Ah,” Rex rubbed a knuckle self consciously over the scar, already feeling cold over his skin at the departure of Jun’s touch. “My brothers and I were in a hit and run. Over five years ago, now.”
Jun crossed his arms. “In Coruscant?”
“Umbara Trail,” Rex confirmed, ice spreading down his face and into his chest, as it always did whenever he tried to recount that night - the wailing sirens, the smell of copper, the way he had woken with a start to the world turned on its side.
He could still feel his cheek crushed into the passenger-side window; the glass oddly smooth and blank and unbelievably intact after the earthquake they had just endured: the scream of metal-on-metal, the bite of the seatbelt into his hip, the crush of the vehicle around them. “You know after the old fireman’s tower where there are no streetlights?”
He couldn’t remember much else: the paramedic’s flashlight in his face, maybe. The strange weightless shock of his stretcher being raised into the air. The way the EMT pressing a roll of gauze to his brow had sworn when his ambulance hit a pothole. He couldn’t remember how much of it was real - how much of it had really happened - and how much he had forged in his mind afterwards, like rolling a fresh lump of clay into the shape of a bowl.
The tree had saved their lives, apparently. After the car tipped onto its side and slid into the ditch, the tree slammed into the roof. It was the only thing that stopped them from flipping over and over - from rolling until they were an unrecognizable mess dressed in crumpled metal.
It was a tiny scar, really, miniscule in comparison to everything else. A barely noticeable fleck of silver. Besides that, all he’d gotten out of the crash was a wicked concussion and a few broken ribs. And all Fives had gotten out of it was whiplash and a popped shoulder. And Waxer…
Well.
“Oh.” Jun’s eyes were wide. “I’m sorry. Was it bad?”
Rex wasn’t trying to sound nonchalant when he shrugged, he wasn’t trying to sound tough. All he could think of was the slip of his shoulder against the glass, his hand reaching for the backseat. “It could have been worse.” With the tissue around his nose, his voice sounded odd and raw even to his own ears. “But yeah, yeah it was bad.”
###
“You missed me, right?”
Echo was propped against the kitchen counter at Cody’s house. As Rex pored through the fridge for a fresh bottle of tonic water, he could hear the cheerful jabbering of their party outside the window. A horrific popping noise notified him that Boil and Anakin had started setting off their homemade firecrackers.
“Barely survived without you.” It was much too true. When Rex turned, drink in hand, he caught sight of the One Year Cancer-Free banner beaming down at him. Fives had wanted to order one that said, Happy One Year as an Honorary Pirate before Jango put a firm stop to it.
Echo snorted; Rex couldn’t explain how happy it made him that his hair and skin had colour again. “I knew you would. You and Fives are a disaster when left to your own devices.” Suddenly, his smile slipped, and before Rex even knew what he was doing, he had set down his bottle in preparation to catch something. “I’m sorry I stayed home this year.”
“Why are you apologizing?” There was something tight in his chest. “It was the right decision.”
“Even still,” Echo worried at his bottom lip. With his pants cuffed and his knees bent, it almost looked like both his legs were real. “I didn’t mean to leave you both. I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t want to be there - or that I was abandoning you.”
Sighing, Rex leaned against the counter beside him. “I know.”
Studying his thumbs, Echo continued, “I mean, I just didn’t want you to think I wasn’t choosing you.”
Rex shrugged, the fabric of Echo’s t-shirt shifting against his arm. “Even if you weren’t, I would be happy - as long as you felt it was the right choice.”
“Really? You’d be alright with it?” When Echo turned to him his eyes caught the light through the kitchen window. The tightness in Rex’s chest was replaced by a hollow ache. He wished, more than anything, that his brother was still small enough to bundle up in one arm. Up on the counter, Echo kicked his feet the way he used to in his high-chair, Cheerios spilled all over the plastic. Waxer would sling his arms over his shoulders and carry him across the yard like he was a backpack full of stones.
He wanted to fill this hollow feeling with something solid - something that wouldn’t hurt so much.
“Oh, god, kid,” Rex gripped the back of his neck and knocked their foreheads together, Echo’s stubble rough against the heel of his hand. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
###
It was only a fifteen minute drive from their dad’s house to the airport, but Cody still insisted on driving him.
Rex sat with his hands bunched around the strap of his carry-on the entire time. His brother was listening to a podcast about a famous sculpture that had been stolen in the nineteenth-century. Coruscant passed by the window in swatches of grey river water and yellow-leafed trees. The end of the weekend meant that the skyscrapers, sitting in the pocket of the valley that surrounded them, were blank and empty.
It started raining, the highway turning mirrored, traffic lines blurred. At least it was no longer cold enough to snow.
“Thanks for driving me.” His voice was strained from the screaming which had accompanied their backyard game of rugby the night before. “You really didn’t have to.”
Cody kept his eyes on the road. “It’s no problem.”
“No, but seriously.” Rex felt like he was poking at a healing wound, like any moment he might press too hard and blood would come gushing out, bright red and bright hot. The space between him and Cody was a line of stitches. “I could have taken the bus. Or asked Anakin to drive me.”
“Honestly, Rex,” Cody’s mouth was pressed flat, “I wanted to do it.” His hair was longer than he usually kept it; it was just starting to curl behind his ears.
“Alright, but,” Rex’s throat was closing, slowly. But he needed Cody to know. He needed him to know that he wasn’t trying to press him, that he didn’t want to be selfish. He needed Cody to know he understood . “I don’t want to force you to spend time with me if you don’t want to.”
For a moment, his older brother only blinked at the shine of water on the windshield, and then Cody turned with alarm etched into every line of his face, including his scar. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Codes, we’ve been weird for years now. And if you’re upset that I’m here, I don’t want to take advantage of that. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to shove myself back into your life.” They turned through the stoplights to the airport, the departure sign pressing a shadow over the roof of the car.
His brother was pale. “Since when do you think I wanted you to leave my life?”
For some reason, every last word that left Rex’s mouth, as much of a confession as they were, left him feeling heavier instead of lighter. They had never talked about it - the blame. He thought talking would make it easier - apparently he was wrong. “It’s alright, Cody. I understand, okay?”
The Toyota Corolla rolled to a stop along the curb. Rex gathered his bag in his arms before resting a hand against the door handle. “You need space from me.”
“Rex, hold on-”
“I’m not trying to fight that.”
“Just, hold on a second.” For a moment Cody looked like he wanted to bunch Rex’s jacket in his fingers - but he was already pushing through the door. “Rex!”
The weight in his chest was pulling him downwards. He tried to look at his brother through the open door, but it was like Cody was a spotlight. He would have to close his eyes or cry. Why did it hurt like this? He was only doing what was best. “It’s okay, Cody.”
“That’s not - it’s not okay, Rex, dammit.” Cody jammed his car in park, leaning as far across the passenger seat as he could. “Just wait a goddamn minute.”
But the thought of having to hear Cody’s explanation, the words that would become real, finally, after all that time unsaid. He couldn’t bear it - even if he already knew they were true. Closing the door and backing away, Rex held up his hands, the gesture strange and empty like a foreign object laid against his palms, something he could barely identify.
Cody swore, turning to the side to roll down the window. But by the time it was open, Rex was already too far to hear what he might say - or what he might not. He had decided a long time ago that whatever it was, whatever words he thought Cody would push into the air between them, even the words he thought he wouldn’t - it’s not your fault - he wouldn’t want to hear them.
Rex spent the entire flight with his arms wrapped around his middle. He was cold.
###
They said it was quick. They said he died on impact. They said there was no pain.
They said, they said, they said.
###
“Didn’t you want to go on a run before breakfast?” Jun’s voice had even more gravel in the orange haze of the sunrise. It rumbled like the engine of a plane, vibrations trembling through the mattress and into Rex’s ribcage.
As he lifted his bleary head to look at the clock, Rex adjusted his grip on his pillow and collapsed back down onto his stomach. “Oh, yeah. I guess I did.”
Prodding his shoulder, Jun yanked at the covers and then blinked. “What?”
“What?”
“You’re smiling at me, what?”
“I am?”
“You’re smiling like an idiot. What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Rex tugged the covers back to his side, pulling them up to his neck. “I just don’t feel like going on a run.”
###
“We need to talk.”
Cody was standing in the middle of the school parking lot, the stubble over his jaw almost as dark as the glare underneath the shadow of his baseball cap. Rex’s students skirted around him like he was a rock parting a river.
Rex drew to a halt, arrested. “Jesus - Cody? What the hell are you doing here?”
His brother shrugged, slightly off-centre. His hands were tight over his biceps, arms crossed. “I wanted to see you.”
“Yeah but -” Rex dropped his voice, suddenly conscious of the students that were milling around like bees. He and his brother stuck out like two burnt trees in the middle of a lush forest. “In Alderaan? Did you drive? It’s two hours .”
Cody’s eyes were hard. He was working a muscle in his jaw. “It’s my day off. And like I said, we need to talk.”
“Okay, just -” A swarm of students near the front door drew Rex’s attention. “Not here. Meet me at my car.”
Once he was certain Cody had slipped away and wasn’t drawing any more attention to himself, he practically launched himself towards the scuffle. Underneath the green awning that ran the length of the building, Katooney and Zatt were wrestling over a basketball. They were surrounded on all sides by cheering seventh-graders, Rex caught the passing eye of a group of his eleventh-grade sports pro students and shrugged helplessly.
A smack echoed over the sandstone. Katooney had been aiming for the ball, it seemed, and had instead hit Zatt square on the top of his head.
“Alright, alright,” Rex shouldered his way into their makeshift fight club, “that’s enough of that. Katooney, the ball, now .”
By the time Rex had everything sorted, had given Zatt an ice-pack for the growing lump on his forehead, and had locked the basketball back inside the equipment cupboard, the student parking lot was mostly empty. There were a few stragglers lounging against the hoods of their cars, iced-capps in hand.
At the edge of the staff parking lot, Jun was standing with his hands in his pockets. He tilted his chin towards Cody as Rex passed him: you need me?
Shaking his head, Rex shot him a grateful smile before tracking a path to his own vehicle. Cody was leaning against the drivers-side door, twisting at his fingers.
Hefting his backpack into the backseat and then closing the door, Rex opened his mouth - but Cody got there first.
“Just - let me talk.”
Rex nodded, there was a thread of stiffness running up his back and into the lines of his jaw.
“At the airport, you said a lot of things and you wouldn’t let me respond. So this is me telling you my side, alright? I’m not mad at you. I don’t need space from you. I don’t know why you think -”
“Hold on -” The metal of his car was warm against the side of Rex’s leg.
“No you hold on,” Cody’s finger was an inch from his face, “you said you would let me talk, asshole.”
“Alright, well you don’t need to lie .”
“Who said I was -” Cody pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m not lying.”
“Well that’s bullshit because I know for a fact you’re upset with me - Cody,” his voice was getting louder and there was nothing he could do to stop it, “it’s been like this between us for years .”
“And I’m not saying it hasn’t been - and I know that’s my fault, and I know there’s a reason for it. Just because you’re angry with me , doesn’t mean I’m angry with you .”
Now it was Rex’s turn to bring a hand up to his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean I’m angry with you ?”
“You just said,” his brother’s voice was wearing thin, “that it’s been like this between us. And you’re right, okay? I just, I couldn’t … I let it get this far because I didn’t want to talk about it. But it’s been awful, it’s been so awful. And I fucking miss you. But god , Rex, I don’t think I could live if I heard you say it.”
“Say what?” When Cody shook his head, looking sharp to the side, Rex nearly thumped a fist against the side of his car. “Cody, say what .”
“That it’s my fault - alright? That it’s my fault.”
Rex dropped his voice, along with his heart, to the soles of his new running shoes. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Because I sent him - you asked for a ride home and I got caught up at work, and I fucking sent him .” They were shouting now - there was no way to avoid it. Rex couldn’t even bring himself to look away, to see if anyone was near. Cody had pulled off his baseball cap somewhere in the last sentence. His eyes were wet.
“God, Cody, I’m not - I don’t - how could you ever think that was your fault?” In the back of his mind he saw Cody in the driver’s seat and his chest seized with panic. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, you know it wouldn’t.”
In a gesture so familiar it made Rex ache , his older brother brought a thumbnail up to his mouth.
“I’m not mad at you, hey - I was never mad at you.”
“Then what is this?” Cody’s voice was thick and raw, he waved a hand in the space between them almost frantically. “Why is it like this, because… because I hate it, Rex. I hate feeling like I don’t know you at all.”
“It’s”, Rex started, and suddenly couldn’t move. “It’s - Well, I thought you were upset with me. I just - I knew you would never admit it.”
“So I can’t even deny it? I’m not mad at you, Rex.”
“Cody, I said it at the airport, alright, I couldn’t blame you even if you were. And I didn’t say mad-” he didn’t know if he should be irritated, he felt too wrong and hollowed out inside to be annoyed, “I said upset . I didn’t want you to force yourself to be near me if it was hard, because - because I’m here and he isn’t.
“And I knew you would feel awful about it - beating yourself up, because God knows I do.” There was the breath in his lungs again, thin and hard through his nose, he couldn’t remember when he had lost it. The car against his hip was grounding. His brother seemed years, and years, and years away. “I’m not a twin, not like Fives, and not like - not like Waxer. I didn’t belong to anyone, I’m alone, I was - you know what I’m trying to say.”
“No,” Cody crossed his arms, his hands were shaking, “I don’t.”
“That I was more expendable,” Rex snapped. “Alright? That I mattered less.” He pushed on, ignoring the horrified way his brother was shaking his head.“And if it had to have been one of us -”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence -”
“It should have been me.”
The air in front of him was shimmering, he swiped at his eyes but that only made it worse.
“Oh, Rex. God, c’mere.” Cody was trembling and he couldn’t even fend him off. His arms went up, he didn’t even know what he was trying to block. When his brother said his name again it was strange, and broken, and Rex couldn’t feel anything much besides the thud of arms across his back.
He had his chin hooked onto the shoulder of Cody’s shirt, hands twisted in the fabric for dear life. And at least - goddammit - at least the parking lot was mostly empty. Because this was his brother - his brother , and he’d missed him - he’d missed him so much it had nearly torn him in two, pulled his heart right out of his chest, left his broken body on the side of the road.
“It’s alright,” Cody’s hand was steadying over his back. He was confused, for a moment, why Cody’s fingers against the back of his neck were cold and wet, before he remembered they had been rubbing at his face moment’s earlier. “It’s alright, you’re okay.”
“It shouldn’t have been any of you. It shouldn’t have happened at all.” The sunlight was glaring, it felt like there were crystals in the corners of his eyes. When was the last time he had hugged Cody? Why had it been so long? Why had he let it go on like this - this emptiness, this absence. He couldn’t even remember the last time they had talked - really talked. The hole in his chest made sense. It choked him.
He should have grabbed Cody tight the moment the silence slipped between them. He hated it; he hated it. As if he sensed the black and terrible void that had opened in Rex’s lungs, Cody pressed him tighter. It was like he was trying to pour three years of unspoken words into one hug. And -
“It’s not your fault.”
Oh .
He missed his brother. He missed him, and that was okay, it was alright, it wasn’t his fault - it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
“I missed you a lot.” His voice was barely a whisper, all the air had been squeezed out of him.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Cody’s voice was wet again. “I missed you too.”
Parking lot gravel shifted under Rex’s feet, his voice was muffled, “I have so much to complain about. You have no idea what Fives did to my favourite pair of sneakers.”
His brother’s laugh was a gift, the first brilliant sunrise after a night of thunder. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard it. “Last week Luke threw up on Obi-Wan’s favourite dish towel and I didn’t tell him. I just bought an identical replacement. I don’t think he’s noticed.”
When Rex opened his eyes he could see flecks of grey in the curls by Cody’s temples. “You know that tall guy who was standing by the door?” His brother nodded, chin knocking on Rex’s shoulder. “We’re dating.”
“Hey, congratulations! I haven’t been doing the knee exercises you gave me.”
“Idiot,” Rex slapped the back of Cody’s head. “You’re getting old - you need those. I’m asexual. I just thought you should know.”
“I know,” said Cody, and he was here. He was here, and real, and solid, and the words he had said were real and solid too, and Rex had needed to hear them. He was crying again - it was stupid - he was thinking of the way Cody used to toss him in the air and catch him before he hit the ground.
###
This is what he remembered: the crush of metal, the smell of copper, his cheek on the passenger-side window. He raised his face from the glass, the world was on its side - no, his vision swam, muggy, the world was underwater.
If he squinted he could see the fish... if he -
His ears were full of cotton, the world was underwater - he gagged and -
“Fives!”
His own voice was muffled even to his own ears. He lifted his head again - the glass a kiss against his brow, an aquarium. His eyelashes were clumped with blood.
“Fives?”
Out of the corner of his eye, the backseat was a shadow. Craning his head around the headrest summoned pain, white hot, up the line of his neck. He didn’t know how long his vision was spotted with bright specks of hurt. He didn’t know if his eyes were closed or open. When he looked again, the seat where Fives had been was still empty.
Struggling against the cutting weight of his seatbelt, his chest feeling strange and pinched, he twisted one last time, his shoulder flat against the passenger-side window. There was his little brother - his little brother who had let him put a Ninja Turtles bandage over a scrape on his knee at the playground, two-year-old face dignified and composed even as it was smeared with dust and tears - there was Fives, slumped near the handle of the door.
Rex tried his name again, but his voice was losing power, slipping away under the shadow that covered everything in the car. It was so dark. There weren’t any street lights; there weren’t any stars.
Moving laboriously, much too slow, his head and his neck on fire, Rex shifted his body against the smooth, unbroken glass. He turned to the left too late. Waxer stared at him from the driver’s seat. His eyes were open.
###
“There is one more thing,” Rex hooked his thumbs around the lip of the table. “If I work here again next year, I don’t want to coach the junior boys.”
Bail’s eyebrows flicked to the ceiling light. Before he could open his mouth, Rex rambled on, “I want to coach the senior girls team instead. I’ve sat through most of their practices and all of their games. They’re disciplined, they take the sport seriously, and they’re open to change on the field. I don’t want to be frank when I say they have some of the most potential of any team at this school.” Sitting back in his seat, the principal swept a hand over the wood of his desk: a motion to continue.
“The girls are more experienced, and that way I’ll be able to focus on improving our strategies as a team and not just teaching them the rules. I feel like they’ll match my skill level as a coach. With, uh, all do respect, sir,” his knuckles were pressed white to stop his fingers from shaking, “I’m too good for the junior boys.” There, it was done, it was said. Rex waited for a denial, for return fire, heart thumping, and when there wasn’t any, he finally lifted his gaze from the paper’s on Bail’s desk.
The principal had his hands clasped, lips pursed beneath his moustache.
“I, er,” Bail’s eyes reminded him inexplicably of Padmé’s. “I need a team that isn’t afraid to run the gauntlet, sir.” It sounded rather lame, once he’d said it out loud, the words hanging in the air between them like a load of damp washing on the line.
For a moment he thought Bail might hand his application back to him, references and all, but then the principal smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Noted, Mr Fett.”
“Right,” his palms were sweaty; he didn’t know if he should wipe them off on the knees of his pants. “I’ll just go, then.”
“Rex,” he paused with his hand on the doorknob. There was fine silver in the hair at Mr Organa’s part. “I’m aware that you’ve applied to several different schools. And I can’t speak for the hiring board - but I do know that this school, the students and teachers, would be happy to have you.” He nodded in the direction of the front office. “Take a toffee on your way out.”
###
So he applied to North Alderaan, much to Jun’s delight. And he also applied to Kamino Public, and to a temporary position at West Coruscant that he knew was only a slight possibility because it was so competitive. And then, because there were options everywhere, he applied to two high schools in Lothal, and one in Felucia. There was an opening for a phys-ed teacher at Kryze Memorial so he applied there too.
In the end he had to print out a second round of resumes because there was a temporary position for an AT at Onderon U and a professor in Saleucami was looking for a research assistant.
It was exhilarating, it was terrifying.
All of his meticulous planning and he had absolutely no idea what happened next.
###
Their graduation started like nothing else: fast, and frantic, and suddenly there was too much all at once for Rex to ever be able to capture it and hold on to it, no matter how hard he tried.
His hat came a size too big; there was pollen all over the quad that made Echo sneeze; Fives tried to sneak a flask up the sleeves of his robe. All across the grass, students fluttered like a flock of multi-coloured birds. The trees around the clocktower were dressed in flowers with papery petals. Once the ceremony started and they found their seats, the bottoms of Rex’s sneakers were pressed in pink.
Ahsoka had braided dark blue into her hair to match the sash over her shoulders; her tassel was hanging on the wrong side. When they embraced, he lifted her right off the ground and then she did the same to him before he could push her off.
All day his cheeks hurt from smiling. Dr. Koon’s grip was firm when they shook hands. His master’s degree didn’t weigh nearly as much as he thought it would - how in the world could everything he had done in the last three years amount to a single slip of paper?
The orchard smell was on all his robes, it was draped inside his lungs. They took so many pictures he lost count: Ahsoka on his back, Ahsoka in his arms, Ahsoka falling on the way up to his shoulders. Arriving an hour later than they wanted to, Obi-Wan and Cody graced them with twin bouquets and a bottle of champagne that wouldn’t last three minutes.
He hugged Cody when he arrived, and he hugged Cody when he got off the stage, and he hugged Cody when they gathered around for more photographs, their rowdy group drawing scornful glances from the parents scattered around them. His brother’s scar was rose-coloured in the sun, it curled up his cheek when he grinned. Cody laughed quietly and adjusted Rex’s sash and fussed over the spot where Fives had missed a button on his dress-shirt.
After Ahsoka kissed Steela long and hard, Obi-Wan urged her to, “show some decorum,” and then immediately tucked his hand in the back pocket of Cody’s pants.
Someone had converted every last one of Rex’s molecules into sunlight. He spent most of the afternoon with Ahsoka’s hand wound tight in his own, her laugh picking him up by the shoulders and lifting him into the clouds.
They only had one moment to themselves, trailing after Fives and Echo as they led the charge to the parking lot, the ceremonies fading behind them like a paper boat pulled out to sea.
“Hey,” He drew them to a halt. Everything he wanted to tell her hung, heavy, over his body, but his fingers were still sparking with light. He couldn’t tell if he was exhausted or energized. “I just wanted to say… Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for sharing your undergrad with me.”
“Rex,” Ahsoka was beaming at him. “Thank you for sharing your masters with me. And your brothers. And your apartment.” He could feel the ring on her thumb digging into his. “And, thank you for being my best friend, too.”
“Seriously, I, uh, I don’t know what I would have done these past three years without you.” His voice dipped, although it wasn’t a confession; she knew it already.
“Crashed and burned, probably.” She waited for him to laugh. “Seriously, you’re hopeless. No, but - I don’t know what I would have done without you either.” Her next giggle was a tad choked; she knocked his shoulder. “You make me better, Rex.”
Pressing their foreheads together with the caps still on their heads was clumsy, but it was worth it. Rex’s inhale filled up his entire body, his lungs, his chest, all the way to the backs of his ears. He could even feel the rush of air behind his eyes, poking tight at the corners with Ahsoka’s brow still against his. Her hand was warm; her eyes were blue. All the love he had for her rolled into a ball and stuck itself down the back of his throat.
She swiped a thumb over his cheek, her smile watery, and Rex mirrored the motion on her face.
“Don’t smear my eyeliner,” Ahsoka warned him, rubbing off her hand against the shoulder of his robes. His perfect little sister. What would he do without her? She nodded towards the car. “Come on.”
They spent the majority of the ride back watching the sunset with their heads out the windows, hands outspread, poking each other and pointing as they tried to pick out all of the bright and varied colours of the sky.